It was the last day of a three-day course in white-water kayaking. There were ten of us in the class. In the bus on the way to the river, people began sharing details of their careers. One woman informed us that she was a nurse anesthetist. When asked what exactly that meant she said simply, "I put people to sleep."

A few days later I was on another kayaking trip. Three of us were in kayaks, and a larger group was following us in rafts. While in the midst of a particularly challenging set of rapids, I took a stroke that was meant to stabilize my boat. As I pulled back I felt and heard a very pronounced snap in my back. I was frightened because I found I had very little control of my arms and upper body. I was incapable of directing my boat, so I let the current run me through the next section of river and was able to run aground on a small beach.

My two companions in the other kayaks, unaware of any problem, followed me and decided it was a good spot to set up lunch and wait for the rafts. I walked to an isolated spot, sat down, and began to pray. I was still very fearful and in extreme pain. The canyon was completely isolated; there were no telephones, and the only way in or out of the canyon was by the river.

I turned to God with my whole heart, asking for reassurance that I was not alone. All I wanted was to feel His loving

care. Then I recalled distinctly the statement by the nurse on the previous trip: "I put people to sleep." I began to think about that. By sleep she meant unconsciousness, being completely unaware of the influences affecting one's physical condition for a period of time. Wasn't that precisely what this fear was doing to me? I was being put to "sleep," or losing the awareness of all the spiritual facts I knew to be true about myself.

I quickly affirmed that God, divine Mind, is never unconscious but is always active and aware. Therefore, because my true selfhood, in God's likeness, is the very expression of this Mind, I could not be deprived of my ability to think clearly and to know the truth about my unbreakable relationship to God.

All of this took place in the span of just a few minutes. In that time the fear and pain vanished. I was concerned because my mobility still appeared to be restricted. But I simply continued to cherish the spiritual fact that I could not be deprived of the spiritual understanding of my relationship to God.

The rafts soon caught up to us, and during lunch I rejoiced at all the evidence of God's loving presence surrounding me: the spectacular beauty, the lively and caring group I was a part of, and our joyous activities. Any doubt that I could be outside of God's goodness and power was gone.

By prior arrangement I was to be in a raft through the next section of river. But when the time came for me to get back in my kayak, I did so without hesitation. The trip was completed in perfect harmony, and with exuberance.

That night I spoke with a Christian Science practitioner, and she prayerfully supported me. By morning I felt completely free and confident. Several more days of vigorous paddling followed.

I am so grateful for the innumerable instances in which I have relied on God for comfort, direction, and healing. I say with absolute conviction that God is a very present and tangible influence in my life; in fact, God is man's Life. Not a day goes by without my feeling gratitude for this fact.

David Christian Smith
Santa Ana, California